


You Will Not Be Alone

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, First Time, Foreshadowing, Grief/Mourning, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Sibling Incest, trying to be quiet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of Fëanor's death, Maglor comforts Maedhros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Will Not Be Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maitimiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maitimiel/gifts).



> Guide to Names:  
> Maedhros = Maitimo, Nelyo  
> Maglor = Makalaurë  
> Celegorm = Tyelko, Tyelkormo  
> Caranthir = Moryo  
> Curufin = Curvo  
> Amrod = Pityo  
> Amras = Telvo

Maglor, in later years, would sing of the sudden bright death of Fëanor in terms of the highest tragedy and loss. In one moment his beloved face was looking at them, entreating them to remember, hearing their oath once more with that old love burning in his eyes - the eyes that were Maglor's first memory of beholding anything - and then, even then, as he bade them avenge him, death came as a rush of flame, roaring upward. The greatest of the Noldor burned like a dying star, and Maglor, fear and surprise in his eyes, could not move, could not even step away from the heat of that incineration. 

In seconds, nothing but ash and burnt grass remained of their father. Numb shock showed on all their faces, and they stood like fools on the hillside, mouths agape, glancing from tree to bush as if wondering whether this was all some elaborate joke and Fëanor would return to them soon. 

Of course it was Maedhros who came back to himself first, stirring slightly, breathing in, taking his hand from the hilt of his sword, and reaching for Curufin, who stood nearest him staring vacantly at the burned ground. "We cannot stay like this," he said, half to himself, half to the rest of them. "We are not safe here yet." He pulled Curufin close, wrapping his arms around him. Curufin was wide-eyed and numb, more so than the rest of them, something in him broken in that moment.

"Makalaurë," Maedhros said, his tone flat and blank, "I will need you to come with me in a moment to see to our company." He took another deep breath. "Tyelko, I leave the animals in your charge, please see that they are taken care of. Pityo, go with him. Telvo, will you and Moryo see about finding us something to eat and setting up our tents once I've arranged for our people to set up camp near here?" He looked down at Curufin, who had buried his face in Maedhros' tunic and was trembling. "Curvo, I need you to find a white, flat stone, and carve a marker for this place. Can you do that?" 

Curufin nodded, slowly and silently, then let go of Maedhros and backed away. "There is no crown to give you, but now you will lead us," Maglor found himself saying softly to Maedhros, feeling that for Maedhros' sake if no one else's, the words needed to be spoken. 

Maedhros nodded, some spark in his eyes brightening a little at the words, and released Curufin, striding away down the hillside to where all their followers - the remaining few from Fëanor's company, along with the companies led by Maedhros and Celegorm - had witnessed Fëanor's bright passing. After a moment, Maglor followed him, and the rest scattered to their tasks. 

\----

An hour later, everything was settled for a period of rest. Curufin was still carving, painstakingly, the large white stone he had found not far away, even though his eyes looked haunted as he did it, and at times the knife he was using would shake. Celegorm sat beside him on the hillside, and they did not speak to each other while he worked. 

The twins were already in their tent, from which the sound of muffled sobbing issued, and Caranthir had gone to find his wife in hers. Lehtië was one of Celegorm's picked company and had already won herself renown in the earlier battle at the Fens of Sirion. 

Maedhros gave orders to his captain in a low voice as Maglor listened quietly. "Give the first watch to ten picked from my own company that are most able to bear it, and in four hours, change to ten from Tyelkormo's company. Let Father's company - what few of them remain! - take their rest, and in eight hours let me know the situation." 

"Yes, my lord," the captain answered - Maglor tried to recall her name, and thought it might be Cuilendil, but wasn't sure. She departed shortly thereafter, and Maglor followed Maedhros back to their shared tent in silence. 

For several long minutes Maedhros was utterly silent, preoccupied with taking off his armour piece by piece, laying it carefully aside. Maglor kept his eyes on him even as he stripped off his own armour, wanting to speak but not sure how to break through the grim determination that Maedhros had cast about himself like a cloud from the moment of their father's death. 

It wasn't until all the armour was gone and Maedhros, looking far more vulnerable without it, sat down on the spread blankets, bowing his head, that Maglor was able to speak. Kneeling down beside him, he laid his hands on Maedhros's shoulders and drew him close. 

"We walk now in a double darkness," he said, "and we need you, Maitimo, to guide us and lead us in Father's place, just as you have always done, from the earliest days I can remember." 

Maedhros' breath caught on a sob, and he glanced up at Maglor, slowly bringing his arms up around him in a careful embrace. "All is dark now," he said, voice shaking, "and I do not know if I can lead, I do not know where to go or what to do now." 

"Only one task lies before us, from now until the world's ending, unless we achieve it." The Oath, so recently reaffirmed, rang in Maglor's ears. "So let me comfort you and reassure you that you will find the path for us and the strength to walk down it." 

Maedhros gave him a sad smile and lay down on the blankets, pulling Maglor down with him. Maglor curled up close, and stroked a hand over his hair, then kissed his forehead and cheek several times over, lingering warmly, murmuring soft endearments all the while, just as he remembered Maedhros doing for him time after time in their youth. 

After a few minutes, Maedhros stirred softly and whispered, "It is not so easy as to be one task only. I have to be aware of all our needs, not only the Oath. We cannot simply go back into the arms of the waiting Balrogs, seeking the Silmarils." He took a long shuddering breath. "We must proceed more subtly, yet I have no idea how to even begin." 

"Shh," Maglor said very softly. "This can all wait until you have rested." 

"My mind will not stop," Maedhros said, reaching his hand up and laying it on Maglor's shoulder. Their eyes met. "I may look calm, but there is a storm inside my mind and I shift and waver from panic to fear to grief and back again. It takes all I have to control it and not to scream so loud the Valar in their cold seats could hear!" His voice rose at the end of the sentence, and, partly to silence him, partly to comfort him, Maglor bent down and kissed him, hard and sweet. 

Maedhros fell back against the ground like all the fight had gone out of him. Maglor's mouth moved on his, gentling down to warm and soft. This much they had done before, experimenting, when Maglor was an adolescent and Maedhros only just grown. 

Maglor opened his mouth and let his tongue trail along the line of Maedhros' lips. With a soft groan, Maedhros let him in. This, they had done only once before, briefly, casting embarrassed adoring looks at each other afterward but not daring to go any further. But now, Maglor's whole body thrilled at the warm forbidden nature of this pleasure. They were beyond the Valar's ken here, in the lands where there were no rules, not for such as they, so nothing, nothing was forbidden any longer. 

Nevertheless, after a moment, Maedhros turned his face away and whispered, "We should not do this." 

"There is nothing I will not do, if it comforts you," Maglor answered immediately. "And I have longed for this for years beyond count - for almost my whole life. You played with so many others, and I watched at times, yearning and jealous, hoping you would one day understand that you were the only one for me, ever." 

"The Laws forbid it, twice over at least," Maedhros said, but almost a smile drifted across his face. He placed his hand on Maglor's upper arm. "And yet, I know of what you speak." Sliding his hand along to cup Maglor's chin, he raised his head, and brought their mouths together once more. This kiss started slow and gentle, but inexorably turned hot, and Maglor found himself sliding both his hands into Maedhros' hair, pulling it a little to better give him the chance to ravish Maedhros' mouth. When they broke away from each other, Maedhros was breathing fast, flushed and warm against him. 

It was easy to rouse Maedhros' blood, and Maglor let his hand slide down the few garments Maedhros wore to press down over his half-hard cock. Maedhros let out a choked, cut-off, gasp at the touch. 

"We must be silent," he breathed. "How sound would carry here on this hillside!" 

"Well, then," Maglor whispered, his heart pounding with long-suppressed desire and sudden hope, "take off your clothes. Silently." 

They fumbled together for a moment with their clothing, hardly daring to look at each other even in the darkness. Maglor reached awkwardly for his bag containing spare clothing, which also held a small pot of hand salve. 

When Maedhros lay down beside him again, it was in the full glory of his nakedness, and Maglor could not help but stare for a moment, awestruck. In the dim light, Maedhros' pale skin almost seemed to shine, and though Maglor had seen him naked in every circumstance imaginable, he had never seen him naked and _about to fuck him_. The thought of it sent fire through his blood. 

"Will you take me? You may safely lose yourself in me." Maglor's soft whisper directly into Maedhros' ear left them both breathless, and Maedhros nodded. Maglor took some of the hand salve and pressed his own hand between his legs, preparing himself. The salve smelt sweet and vaguely familiar, as if of something they had left behind in Valinor which could never be recovered. 

Maedhros also took some of the salve and stroked it firmly up and down his cock. His eyes fluttered shut at his own touch and he let out the smallest gasp. 

Prepared to his own satisfaction, Maglor pressed Maedhros back into the blankets and climbed atop him, lowering himself down onto Maedhros' cock. The breach wasn't easy, and more than one hissed breath of pain escaped Maglor before Maedhros was fully inside him. 

Maglor bent down and kissed Maedhros again, slowly rising up and sinking back down in a gentle rhythm. Maedhros moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled, and when the kiss broke, Maglor placed his hand over Maedhros' mouth, being careful to ensure he could still breathe. 

"Do not be afraid to let go," he whispered, very faint. "I have you safe." 

Maedhros rocked up into him with a muffled cry, settling his hands at Maglor's hips. Together they drove the pace of their bodies from slow and gentle into something altogether more forceful and heated. Maglor kept his lips firmly pressed together, kept his hand over Maedhros' mouth, feeling every gasp, every moan, every whimper from his lips. 

The look in Maedhros' eyes was blazing fire and Maglor met those fiery eyes with his own, exchanging silent promises, dreams, and all the longings of a past that now seemed very distant. Grief and love, life and death, all tangled themselves around his heart, and the way Maedhros moved within him felt like the whole of his existence had narrowed down to that moment, that movement. 

Maedhros threw his head back, and his mouth opened against Maglor's hand in a silent shout as he thrust one last time and came hard, shaking with the force of it. Maglor, not quite at the peak of his own passion yet, watched him through it, until he sank back limp and sated against the blankets, breath coming quickly in the darkness. 

Only then did Maglor take his hand away and bring it to his own cock. Only a few strokes it took to bring himself to the brink, and what cast him over the edge was Maedhros' hand, slipping upward in its turn to cover his mouth and hold back the loud gasp that at the end he could not resist. 

They slumped down together into the blankets, Maglor careful to wipe his hand off with a nearby clean rag (usually used for polishing armour), and Maedhros gathered him close. 

Neither spoke, for a time. Outside the tent one of those on watch passed by, slow footsteps in the long grass. 

"I love you," Maglor said finally, and never had those words meant quite so much as now. 

Maedhros murmured something back that could have been an echo of the same words. He was on the verge of sleep, and with a fond smile, Maglor held him, watched over him, brushed back the hair that inevitably drifted over his face, and when he was fully asleep, nestled close and allowed himself to drift off as well. 

\----

They were awakened a few hours later by Cuilendil's voice just outside the tent, calling softly. "My lords?" she said, and the urgency in her voice brought them both to full wakefulness immediately. Maedhros let go of Maglor and they both moved apart, glancing at each other swiftly. 

"Cuilendil, what is it?" Maedhros said, reaching for his clothing. Maglor became acutely aware that the tent smelt of sex, and reached for his own clothes, swiftly putting on first his tunic, then trousers. 

Cuilendil, to her credit, did not try to enter the tent but continued to speak outside. "From the North, my lord, the watch see torches borne aloft, heading this way."

"An attack?" Maedhros said. "But why then lose the element of surprise?"

"I think not, my lord," she said. "Rather I would guess some sort of embassy." 

"I will be out in a moment," Maedhros said, pulling his boots on. Maglor was not far behind, and they exited the tent together. 

The torches were distant but bright, and there was no mistaking them - they came from Angband. 

Maglor stood a pace behind Maedhros and waited, head bowed, to see what would happen. He stole a glance or two at Maedhros, and was relieved to find that although he was frowning with worry, that frozen look of still numbness was gone from his face. 

After a few minutes, Celegorm and Curufin joined them, and Maedhros put an arm around Curufin's waist and drew him close, whispering a few words meant only for him. Curufin's face brightened visibly. 

Celegorm hugged Maglor quickly, and Maglor leaned into the embrace gladly. They stood like that for a moment, watching the light on the horizon coming closer, slow and steady. 

Before it arrived, the twins did, followed by Caranthir and Lehtië. She looked out at the torchlit procession. "I would say there are about ten in that band, and they are led by a woman wrapped in a bat skin."

"Thuringwethil," Maglor said, suddenly remembering the name from a song he had heard recently from some of the locals. "Her name is Thuringwethil, and she was once of the Maia of Estë." 

"Thuringwethil," Maedhros murmured to himself. 

Gathered together, they waited on the cold hillside, until the torches stopped moving, a little distance from the foot of the hill. 

\-----

The offer was straightforward enough. "Morgoth yields to the might of Fëanor and his valiant sons, and wishes to negotiate terms for peace," Thuringwethil said. "There is much he would trade for peace with the Fëanorians, even including one Silmaril. He asks that you bring a company of ten to a meeting at the low hill halfway between here and Angband, in ten hours' time, and there you may meet with him to discuss surrender." 

Maedhros' head lifted up at the mention of the Silmaril, and his eyes blazed, but he said no word of it until the embassy was concluded and Thuringwethil had gone back to her small company, which waited some distance away in silence. 

"This is how I see it," Maedhros said, gathering them all round himself, speaking quietly in the starlight, eyes bright and determined. "We cannot abandon even one of the Silmarils, if there is a chance it may be recovered." He took a deep breath. "But at the same time we need not treat fairly with the thief and murderer who stole our father's creations and killed our grandfather in cold blood." 

"We could feign that we will send ten only, but rather send fifty," Celegorm said, clenching his fist. 

"Do we even have fifty uninjured warriors to send?" Maglor asked. 

Caranthir spoke up. "Nay, we could provide fifty but it would leave the rest of us unprotected on the journey back to Mithrim." 

"We cannot have that," Maedhros said. "Twenty-five, then? And I will go to the negotiations, it is my duty, and what I trained for." 

"You are our king," Amras said softly. "Some other of us should go." 

"Who?" Maedhros said bluntly. "No one else has been trained in diplomacy or served in a court. You know I love you all but unless Morgoth is much moved by song, Makalaurë would be little avail, or perhaps he is particularly in need of smithwork?" He gestured to Curufin and then turned to Caranthir. "Or perhaps he needs his books balanced?" Caranthir flushed and shook his head, and Maedhros glanced quickly back at Amras, Amrod, and Celegorm beside him. "And you three hunters, I won't allow it." 

"Very well," Caranthir said. "Brother, you've made your point. Who will you take? My wife would be all eagerness to go if you desire." 

"Lehtië should stay with you," Maedhros said, after considering for a moment. "I will take Cuilendil and have her pick twenty-four others, uninjured and hale, from both my company and yours, Tyelko, if you agree?" Celegorm nodded. "There were only five left alive from Father's company, and of those five all were injured." He turned to Maglor. "Makalaurë, it is your responsibility now to ensure the safety of everyone left. Get everyone back to Mithrim with all due speed once I have gone, lest there be an ambush, and await my return."

Maglor bowed his head. "I will, Nelyo," he said. 

Maedhros suddenly pulled him into an embrace, and then Celegorm with his other arm, and then all of them were gathered around Maedhros, hugging him tightly. 

"We are agreed?" Maedhros said, and all nodded firmly before letting go of him.

"One more thing," Maedhros added, a step away from them all, looking very like a king in the light of the torches. "If this should all go wrong, if our plan to outwit the Dark Enemy fails and I am taken, do not come after me. Do not throw your own lives into the abyss after mine. If I fail, then I will fall, and let it be so." 

Maglor bowed his head. Maedhros lit up by flame, red hair blazing bright, eyes alit with passion, was utterly beautiful, utterly glorious, and he could not imagine the plan going wrong, could not fathom the loss he would endure. When he raised his head again, Maedhros was gone, walking across the meadow to the embassy. 

\-----

Maglor made his way to their tent, and ducked inside. The cool breeze flowed across the blankets where they had lain so recently. Idly, he picked up a piece of Maedhros' bright armour and began polishing it with a cloth that was lying on the ground, and then laughed as he realised that the cloth was dry and stiff with his own seed from where he had wiped his hand off earlier. 

He set the cloth aside and found another but could not prevent a secret smile at the thought of Maedhros carrying the essence of Maglor's body with him to these negotiations. Perhaps it would bring him luck. 

Maedhros, after a little while, came into the tent, and smiled to see Maglor hard at work on the armour. "Thank you," he said, and his voice was very sweet, so much so that Maglor had to put the armour down and go to kiss him. Their lips clung together for a long moment, warm and yearning. 

"I love you," Maedhros said, brushing back Maglor's hair fondly. "I promise you, you will not be alone while I am gone, for every moment we are separated I shall be thinking of you." 

"And I you," Maglor breathed, stroking a hand over Maedhros' hair. "Yes, even if your absence was eternal, in every moment I would think of you." 

"Then we shall not be truly apart at all," Maedhros said, giving him a bright smile. "Now, let's see about this armour." 

When, a short while later, Maedhros mounted his horse and rode away, he sat straight and tall in his bright armour, noble and fair, hair flowing in the breeze, eyes alight with hope. Twenty-five of his strongest warriors went with him, fresh and unhurt, warriors that could have taken down a legion of Orcs by themselves. 

But Morgoth sent the more, and there were Balrogs.*

**Author's Note:**

> *The final sentence is a direct quote from The Silmarillion. 
> 
> Caranthir's wife Lehtië's name means 'Free one.'  
> Maedhros' captain Cuilendil's name means 'Lover of life'.


End file.
